Every Present on the Planet
Dec. 6th, 2019 12:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
notasnakeWhen you don’t know what to get the boyfriend you’ve unknowingly had for over 6,000 years, you call in reinforcements.
A lot of reinforcements.
Crowley’s never actually celebrated Christmas before. True, he’s helped Aziraphale dress up the shop by reaching a tall shelf for him from time to time over the years and he’s enjoyed the food at many a Yule celebration over the years, but actually celebrating? With someone? And with presents? That’s completely new.
He starts his hunt for answers in London, calling on Lance Corporal Shadwell and Madame Tracy to get their advice. The last witchfinder in England is less than helpful, asking after the angel’s behavior since the Armagedon rather than offering any type of answer to the demon’s questions. Madame Tracy produces several books for Crowley to peruse at his leisure, which she offers with the suggestion of finding ‘something nice for the two of you to enjoy together’. Grateful for at least some semblance of help, Crowley nods and offers the two a quick farewell before taking his leave.
(A bit later, when he’s had a chance to stop and think about what Made Tracy actually meant with her suggestion, Crowley will have yet another moment of shock, flushing, and flailing. Aziraphale isn’t surprised by the behavior when he learns what caused it and who the books came from. Bless her soul, the dear does try her best.)
Anathema and Newt are the next couple on Crowley’s list. The two of them are happily ensconced with one another as they keep warm in their little cottage, but they’re both at attention when the demon asks for their help in selecting presents for his angel. ‘Books’ is Newt’s brilliant suggestion (“He really seems to like them ...from what you’ve said.”) or an upgraded computer. The poor boy couldn’t help set it up, but he could at least point Crowley in the right direction of the best kind. Anathema, on the other hand, at least has something of value to add. She offers a pendulum or crystal or some kind of occult do-hickey she’s not using anymore, along with a transcribed copy of Agnes Nutter’s book of prophecy. This is the kind of thing Crowley’s been looking for, and he hastily agrees to pay for postage once the copy is ready to be sent. Utterly pleased with himself, he steps out into the garden, intent on making his way straight back to Soho to figure out the rest of his shopping.
Before he can make it to the Bentley, though, The Them catch him on their way to visit Anathema and Newt. Figuring he can’t do worse by asking for more options for presents, Crowley asks the children their thoughts on holiday gifts for Aziraphale. Being the children that they are, each has their own unique flavor of suggestion. Brian suggests something delicious, “Like… a good chocolate, or something.” Wensley purses his lips and says, “A very nice dinner out. Actually, that sounds quite lovely and my parents always enjoy it, so I think that would be good.” Pepper’s suggestion, well meant that it is, is a little less helpful (“Whatever it is, it shouldn’t be gendered. That’s sexist.”). And Adam. Oh, sweet Antichrist child. His answer is the best of them all.
“Do something you haven’t done before.” He smiles, first at Crowley then down at Dog when the animal barks.
“You realize how difficult that is for someone as old as us, don’t you?” The demon is obviously amused, but he fixes the boy - and all the children gathered around him - with a discerning stare.
Adam chuckles and shrugs as he looks up at the demon again. “It’s a new world now, yeah? So there must be something new. I mean, people are coming up with new things all the time, so there’s got to be something somewhere you haven’t done before.”
Crowley can’t help but grin. What a clever child. He thanks all of the children with a grand wave of his hand and a smile, then saunters to the Bentley with a little extra swagger in his step. Oh, yes, this will be a very good Christmas, indeed.
--
In the following weeks while Aziraphale is minding the shop (and Toby is finding ways to add more mistletoe to both the shop and their flat, that asshole), Crowley spends his time tracking down gifts that match all of the suggestions offered to him. He knows he could miracle all of it into their flat, but that entirely defeats the purpose of the gifts. Instead he searches far and wide across the internet and visits dozens of shops across all of England, ensuring that each and every gift is absolutely perfect. What he ends up with feels very good.
The transcribed copy of The Nice and Accurate Prophecies, bound in leather and made as much to look like the original as possible. A box of fine Belgian chocolates, brought across the Channel only a few days prior. A large touch-screen tablet with plenty of hard drive space to replace Aziraphale’s several-year-old laptop that he rarely uses anyway. A reservation for Christmas Eve dinner at the newest, hottest place in London. A case of rare Châteauneuf-du-Pape to add to the cellar for later enjoyment. And, finally, a pair of matching stockings full of their favorite candies to hang from the mantle in their flat.
It doesn’t feel like enough, somehow, but it’ll have to do. Making up for 6,000 years of presents will take more than a single holiday.
--
Once they’re back from their dinner on Christmas Eve, the demon leads Aziraphale up to their flat to offer him the remainder of his physical gifts. The angel’s eyes widen at the sight of a large stack of presents on their coffee table, all wrapped with the grace of a child who’s still learning to hold the paper in place while also applying the appropriate amount of tape. The bows on top are very nice, though.
“Crowley… You-- You didn’t have to get me…” Aziraphale pauses, worrying his lower lip for a moment as he looks up into his demon’s golden eyes. “These are all for me?”
“Every last one, angel.” Crowley smiles and wraps an arm around the angel, drawing him close under the nearest sprig of mistletoe. He presses their lips together in a slow, savoing kiss, then smiles all the more when they part. “We can open them tomorrow, if you like. I don’t really know how this Christmas thing works.”
The angel’s cheeks flush a rosy pink. “Oh, no, we don’t-- We can open them whenever you would--”
“Oh! There’s one more thing,” the demon interrupts. Grinning, he raises his free hand and snaps his fingers. Next to their decorated tree appears a small table, topped with a plate of warm cookies and a glass of milk. Aziraphale looks on in wonder, then chuckles at the demon.
“You thought of everything,” he offers warmly. His eyes sparkle as he focuses on the demon again.
“Mostly.” He chuckles and kisses Aziraphale again. “I may have had some help.”
The angel merely smiles and kisses his demon again. However Crowley managed to find or come up with all of these ideas, he’s most happy to be together. Everything else is merely icing on the cake.
Helping himself to another kiss, the angel slowly puts enough distance between himself and Crowley to start them over toward the stack of gifts. “Let’s start at the top then, shall we? You can tell me all about them as we open.”
Crowley nods, holding Aziraphale as close to himself as he can while they settle on the couch. This, more than anything else he might have found or bought, is what the demon truly wanted for Christmas, and he’s glad beyond the telling of it to have it without any struggle: Love and contentment on a quiet winter night with his best friend in the entire multiverse.
“As you wish, angel.”
A lot of reinforcements.
Crowley’s never actually celebrated Christmas before. True, he’s helped Aziraphale dress up the shop by reaching a tall shelf for him from time to time over the years and he’s enjoyed the food at many a Yule celebration over the years, but actually celebrating? With someone? And with presents? That’s completely new.
He starts his hunt for answers in London, calling on Lance Corporal Shadwell and Madame Tracy to get their advice. The last witchfinder in England is less than helpful, asking after the angel’s behavior since the Armagedon rather than offering any type of answer to the demon’s questions. Madame Tracy produces several books for Crowley to peruse at his leisure, which she offers with the suggestion of finding ‘something nice for the two of you to enjoy together’. Grateful for at least some semblance of help, Crowley nods and offers the two a quick farewell before taking his leave.
(A bit later, when he’s had a chance to stop and think about what Made Tracy actually meant with her suggestion, Crowley will have yet another moment of shock, flushing, and flailing. Aziraphale isn’t surprised by the behavior when he learns what caused it and who the books came from. Bless her soul, the dear does try her best.)
Anathema and Newt are the next couple on Crowley’s list. The two of them are happily ensconced with one another as they keep warm in their little cottage, but they’re both at attention when the demon asks for their help in selecting presents for his angel. ‘Books’ is Newt’s brilliant suggestion (“He really seems to like them ...from what you’ve said.”) or an upgraded computer. The poor boy couldn’t help set it up, but he could at least point Crowley in the right direction of the best kind. Anathema, on the other hand, at least has something of value to add. She offers a pendulum or crystal or some kind of occult do-hickey she’s not using anymore, along with a transcribed copy of Agnes Nutter’s book of prophecy. This is the kind of thing Crowley’s been looking for, and he hastily agrees to pay for postage once the copy is ready to be sent. Utterly pleased with himself, he steps out into the garden, intent on making his way straight back to Soho to figure out the rest of his shopping.
Before he can make it to the Bentley, though, The Them catch him on their way to visit Anathema and Newt. Figuring he can’t do worse by asking for more options for presents, Crowley asks the children their thoughts on holiday gifts for Aziraphale. Being the children that they are, each has their own unique flavor of suggestion. Brian suggests something delicious, “Like… a good chocolate, or something.” Wensley purses his lips and says, “A very nice dinner out. Actually, that sounds quite lovely and my parents always enjoy it, so I think that would be good.” Pepper’s suggestion, well meant that it is, is a little less helpful (“Whatever it is, it shouldn’t be gendered. That’s sexist.”). And Adam. Oh, sweet Antichrist child. His answer is the best of them all.
“Do something you haven’t done before.” He smiles, first at Crowley then down at Dog when the animal barks.
“You realize how difficult that is for someone as old as us, don’t you?” The demon is obviously amused, but he fixes the boy - and all the children gathered around him - with a discerning stare.
Adam chuckles and shrugs as he looks up at the demon again. “It’s a new world now, yeah? So there must be something new. I mean, people are coming up with new things all the time, so there’s got to be something somewhere you haven’t done before.”
Crowley can’t help but grin. What a clever child. He thanks all of the children with a grand wave of his hand and a smile, then saunters to the Bentley with a little extra swagger in his step. Oh, yes, this will be a very good Christmas, indeed.
--
In the following weeks while Aziraphale is minding the shop (and Toby is finding ways to add more mistletoe to both the shop and their flat, that asshole), Crowley spends his time tracking down gifts that match all of the suggestions offered to him. He knows he could miracle all of it into their flat, but that entirely defeats the purpose of the gifts. Instead he searches far and wide across the internet and visits dozens of shops across all of England, ensuring that each and every gift is absolutely perfect. What he ends up with feels very good.
The transcribed copy of The Nice and Accurate Prophecies, bound in leather and made as much to look like the original as possible. A box of fine Belgian chocolates, brought across the Channel only a few days prior. A large touch-screen tablet with plenty of hard drive space to replace Aziraphale’s several-year-old laptop that he rarely uses anyway. A reservation for Christmas Eve dinner at the newest, hottest place in London. A case of rare Châteauneuf-du-Pape to add to the cellar for later enjoyment. And, finally, a pair of matching stockings full of their favorite candies to hang from the mantle in their flat.
It doesn’t feel like enough, somehow, but it’ll have to do. Making up for 6,000 years of presents will take more than a single holiday.
--
Once they’re back from their dinner on Christmas Eve, the demon leads Aziraphale up to their flat to offer him the remainder of his physical gifts. The angel’s eyes widen at the sight of a large stack of presents on their coffee table, all wrapped with the grace of a child who’s still learning to hold the paper in place while also applying the appropriate amount of tape. The bows on top are very nice, though.
“Crowley… You-- You didn’t have to get me…” Aziraphale pauses, worrying his lower lip for a moment as he looks up into his demon’s golden eyes. “These are all for me?”
“Every last one, angel.” Crowley smiles and wraps an arm around the angel, drawing him close under the nearest sprig of mistletoe. He presses their lips together in a slow, savoing kiss, then smiles all the more when they part. “We can open them tomorrow, if you like. I don’t really know how this Christmas thing works.”
The angel’s cheeks flush a rosy pink. “Oh, no, we don’t-- We can open them whenever you would--”
“Oh! There’s one more thing,” the demon interrupts. Grinning, he raises his free hand and snaps his fingers. Next to their decorated tree appears a small table, topped with a plate of warm cookies and a glass of milk. Aziraphale looks on in wonder, then chuckles at the demon.
“You thought of everything,” he offers warmly. His eyes sparkle as he focuses on the demon again.
“Mostly.” He chuckles and kisses Aziraphale again. “I may have had some help.”
The angel merely smiles and kisses his demon again. However Crowley managed to find or come up with all of these ideas, he’s most happy to be together. Everything else is merely icing on the cake.
Helping himself to another kiss, the angel slowly puts enough distance between himself and Crowley to start them over toward the stack of gifts. “Let’s start at the top then, shall we? You can tell me all about them as we open.”
Crowley nods, holding Aziraphale as close to himself as he can while they settle on the couch. This, more than anything else he might have found or bought, is what the demon truly wanted for Christmas, and he’s glad beyond the telling of it to have it without any struggle: Love and contentment on a quiet winter night with his best friend in the entire multiverse.
“As you wish, angel.”
